


Two Men Share One Face

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, But mostly porn, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Facials, Gellert Grindelwald Being an Asshole, Humiliation, I AM SORRY, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor boot licking, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Obscurial Credence Barebone, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Restraints, Sexual Violence, Situational Humiliation, Some Plot, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unsafe Sex, boot licking, but this is several people's fault, captive graves, im a literal piece of trash, pure sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Credence finds out the truth about his hero, and the truth is ugly, far more than his scars, and while his life might have improved when Mister Graves took him home, it also got worse, much worse. [this is not pretty or happy or fluffy.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sportivetricks (tamlane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/gifts), [Nevospitanniy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevospitanniy/gifts).



> well if i hadn't secured my spot in hell yet, i have now. 
> 
> this is your final warning to read the tags and heed the tags and pointless flames will be deleted.

“I have a present for you my boy.”

Mister Graves had a hand at his back, guiding him towards a rather intimidating looking manor on the outskirts of the city of New York, and Credence could feel his palms sweating. He’d been rescued when he’d begged Mister Graves not to send him back to his horrible family, after managing to carefully prove to the man that _he_ was the special child the man had been looking for all along. His power more controlled him than he it, but still, it had been enough.

Mister Graves had been so delighted, so overcome with joy at what he’d done, that the man had kissed Credence, and declared him a miracle, a wonder in need of careful protection.

Which he could provide.

So there they were, walking into a handsome estate, and Credence was unsure what he’d done to deserve any sort of gift beyond the kindness of the care of one of the most powerful Aurors in America.

“It’s downstairs. Go on, get settled, wash your face, change into your sleep clothes, it’ll be time for bed by the time you finish with your present.”

Credence didn’t quite understand the implications of the man’s words, but he did as he was told, following the stairs to a long hallway, and a room with a fireplace crackling merrily greeted him.

There was a pair of black silk pajamas on the foot of the enormous bed, four posters with blood red curtains not quite hiding the curious metal bars on the headboard, and Credence was surprised at how comfortable it felt while undressing, thanks to the fire.

The silk fabric felt like sin on his bare skin, like forbidden caresses from the man who could make him want to burn with a single look.

Credence walked back down out to the foyer, and found Mister Graves awaiting him, a slow smile curving his lips.

“Don’t you look stunning?”

Credence blushed,

“These are very nice. I hope you didn’t go out of your way for me…”

“Nonsense. You deserve a taste of the finer things, you’re in my home now. You’re my responsibility. Come along, let’s go check on your present.”

Credence let Mister Graves take his arm, a firm hand on his elbow, and he found the air growing significantly cooler the further down the stairs they went, until they were standing before a wooden door, almost ominous in its appearance.

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

Mister Graves whispered in his ear suddenly, his lips so close if he turned his head, they might brush against his cheek. Credence shook his head.

“Excellent.”

With a wave of his hand, the door swung inward with a creak and a groan echoed around the room, as Credence squinted into the dark, he could see a dimly lit figure on the other side of the cavernous room.

“Lumos.”

Mister Graves murmured, and a singular glowing sphere emerged from the darkness, floating alongside them as they walked further into the room and Credence’s eyes widened as he recognized the crouching figure, completely naked but for the manacles around his wrists, surely enchanted.

It was Mister Graves.

How could that be?

Credence jerked his head to look at the man beside him, and again at the one in front of him.

“What… who…?”

Mister Graves at his side, looking the picture of health, smirked,

“Here we are. Your present. Percival Graves, Head of the Magical Enforcement of MASCUSA. He looks in need of cheering up. Promise you’ll be good to him. Knock three times on the door when you’re ready to leave.”

Mister Graves didn’t so much as nudge him as push him towards the chained man, and when Credence managed a shiver and turned around, the door was swinging closed, the only light in the room coming from the glowing sphere, like a miniature sun, hovering around them.

“M-m-mister Graves?”

“Credence…”

The voice of the man was like himself, broken, ragged, and it sounded like every syllable pained him. Credence got to his knees before the man, hoping he could help somehow, but his hands were useless against the heavy metal of the chains. Surely a powerful magic was helping them keep the man as he was, for he was a wizard, a powerful one, supposedly. How had he been defeated?

“Are you all right?”

Mister Graves shook his head, and there was something akin to sorrowful desperation in his eyes,

“I’m not. Seeing that maniac walk around with my face? Causing untold damage? Of course not. This doesn’t even matter, but knowing he has _you_? That’s the worst thing he could have done.”

Credence was still confused, but it must have meant, the first time, or maybe even the second time Mister Graves had come to him, it had been real.

Now it was not.

“He’s… not you. You’re you… who is he?”

Mister Graves sighed,

“He’s Grindelwald. Wearing me as a disguise. It was my fault. Listening to any of his bullshit. Thinking I could make a difference with him. Then I decided I didn’t want to, didn’t want innocents hurt from my actions, and he knocked me out, took it anyway. I can’t believe he dragged you into this. You shouldn’t be here… it’s really, _really_ , not safe.”

Credence inhaled a shaky breath, and reached out, before he could stop himself, touching Mister Graves’ face, where he could see a cut, blood congealed and smeared on his skin. His fingers dragged over it, and he called on his power, the Obscurus, as the other Mister Graves, the illusion, Grindelwald… Graves, had called it, and slowly, he could see the wound vanishing, and the blood faded away.

Mister Graves, the real Mister Graves was gasping aloud, and shrinking back against the wall,

“What are you doing?”

Credence bit his lip,

“I’m healing you. You look like you’ve been hurt… a lot. I don’t want you in pain Mister Graves.”

Credence wasn’t willing the light to come closer, but it did anyway, floating right over Mister Graves’ exposed body, and there were many other scars, other injuries, like himself, that he could heal.

He used to let the man heal him, when he would come visit him during the day, down the alleyway, until he realized he could do it himself. He only let the injuries remain because he loved the feel of Mister Graves putting his hands on his body.

“How are you doing this? Where did you learn this magic? Aren’t you just…”

Credence felt a swell of heated anger and frustration inside of him, and he gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to explode with power. He didn’t want to harm Mister Graves.

“I’m not a squib, like you… _he_ said. _I’m_ the obscurial. The child you were looking for. It’s me.”

Mister Graves was staring at him now, something like awe wiping away the fear and the pain,

“Really? That’s wonderful. You could…”

Percival felt his throat close up, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Could what? Help you escape? Not likely. Credence. You’ve been keeping me waiting too long. I think I want you to punish your pet for me.”

Credence jumped at the sound of the louder, stronger and more confident Mister Graves’ voice, but of course, it wasn’t him, it was Grindelwald.

He backed away from the real Mister Graves, almost slipping on the silk of his too long pajama pants.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean to disobey me? Of course you didn’t. You didn’t know. But luckily, our friend here loves to take the blame, he would plead at me whenever I came to see him, ‘ _don’t hurt the boy, don’t touch Credence’_ it would be sweet if it wasn’t so sickening.”

Credence felt a shiver rip through him as Grindelwald walked over to put a hand on his shoulder, gripping him so tightly he wondered if bones and muscle could be ground to dust with just a touch like that.

“Go on. Give him a little kiss. Then I’ll make him beg again, like he does so well.”

Credence almost flinched away from the lips near his ear that time, now that he knew it was wrong, _not Graves_ , his mind whispered, and then he moved away, to obey, and Grindelwald was letting go of him, only to force the real Graves to his feet, chains clinking slightly with the movement.

As Credence walked back towards him, he tried not to look, tried to be modest and proper, but it was almost impossible to ignore the fact he’d never seen Mister Graves naked and exposed as he was, and his eyes widened when he saw between the man’s legs, his cock appeared to be painfully hard, and he was shivering.

“Mister Graves, I’m-“

Silence cut off his words, and he opened his mouth again, trying to work his tongue to speak, but his throat remained quiet, useless.

“Ah, enough of that I think. You can only speak to me. Now, kiss him. Give him a moment of sweetness before I make you fuck him.”

* * *

 

Percival was frozen, literally unable to move or speak without Grindelwald’s permission, and it was killing him to watch Credence, though healthier and clad in expensive clothing, sleepwear as it seemed, approach him so unenthusiastically.

He never wanted any of this to happen. Didn’t want to see the boy he’d grown to care about too quickly turned into yet another plaything for the dark wizard’s amusement, but it was too late.

The boy might have had immense power, as evident by his wandless and wordless magic to heal him, but he couldn’t quite direct it enough to use it against the man who appeared like himself.

It was hopeless.

“Good.”

Grindelwald looked giddy, delighted at his orders being followed, and Graves grimaced even as Credence pressed close, delicately kissing him, inexperienced and shy, even despite the situation.

He would have leaned into it, would have tried to enjoy it, under normal circumstances.

“With feeling now, why don’t you touch him? I know you want to. I can see the way you look at him and me for that matter.”

He was chuckling, and Percival tried to bite his tongue, the inside of his cheek, anything to prevent the wave of pleasure that shuddered over him as Credence obeyed, and put a gentle hand on his cock, which was red and throbbing, aching to be brought to completion.

He’d been kept that way, spelled to remain perpetually aroused, in case Grindelwald wanted to come down and play with him, and it was killing him more than any torture ever had.

He’d been beaten and cut, held upside down underwater, and yet, it all paled in comparison to that, the horrific shame of being kept just on the edge of an inevitable orgasm.

That relief never came.

Credence’s hand tightened slightly, and his fingers were slow and careful on his length, ripping a moan from his throat that he couldn’t stop.

“Oh, feels good, doesn’t it? Our boy is quite skilled, but he doesn’t even know it. Go on then, show your new owner how pretty you are when you come.”

Grindelwald flicked his hand at Percival, who barely had a moment to comprehend what he was being allowed, and then his eyes were squeezing shut as the pleasure finally crested, drowning him, and he gasped as he came all over Credence’s hand, against the floor, even splattering a bit of white on the black fabric that covered the boy.

Credence was shaking, Percival could feel it, and his cock was still hard in the boy’s hand, but not nearly as painful anymore.

“Try it. See how your hero tastes.”

Credence turned to look at Grindelwald, brows furrowed, and the man chuckled.

“Put your hand to your mouth, lick his come off your fingers.”

Percival felt a sliver of heat curl at the base of his spine, as he watched the boy do as commanded, and he knew, in very different circumstances, he’d probably have wanted him to do the same thing.

“How does he taste?”

Grindelwald was waving a hand, conjuring a chair from thin air, or likely from upstairs, for Percival to sit on, and though it was uncomfortable, it still felt like heaven compared to the stone floor.

“Good sir.”

Credence could speak when directly to Grindelwald, Percival understood now.

It was all about power.

The man loved wielding it over others, over No-Majs, and fellow wizards alike.

That much had been obvious from the start. He’d always insisted on being on top, every time they met and ended up in the bedroom, and even when he hadn’t been tied up, the man had wanted him to ask for him to be able to come, to require _permission_.

Now, it was all he did.

Forcing Credence to do his bidding was just about as bad as it could be.

“You’re so simple my boy, so new to this all, it’s rather charming. Now, go sit in his lap, kiss him again, use your tongue, and show him how good he tastes.”

Percival fisted his hands, digging his nails into the soft skin of his palms as Credence came back to his side, and began to sit down, straddling his legs, the silky fabric of his pajamas almost like a balm against his sore thighs.

“Oh no, that’s not right.”

Grindelwald murmured, before waving a hand again, vanishing the boy’s clothes, and Percival squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to embarrass himself again, now faced with his greatest desire.

Well Grindelwald knew, of course he did. He was as skilled with legilimens as himself, but slightly better, due to his Seer blood.

“Better.”

Percival couldn’t hear anything now, as Credence surged forward to capture his lips in a sloppy but heated kiss, tongue slipping into his mouth, pressing against his own, and he wondered if desperation had a taste, then that was what the boy had put down his throat.

Credence may have been relatively innocent to the ways of sexual encounters, but the little movements of his naked hips on Percival revealed how much he liked it all.

Maybe he was _like_ Grindelwald, more than he thought. The boy’s cock was already hard and leaking over Percival’s, every touch and brush of their lengths sending sparks down Percival’s spine.

He was ready and willing, and he didn’t even know what for.

“I think you should let him fuck you my boy. Let us see how _you_ look when you come. I almost can’t wait. You can do him another time. Oh, Graves, you won’t be able to come again, until I think you’re worthy of it.”

The man walked over to them, and reached down behind Credence to press his hand down his back to the boy’s ass, probably what made him shiver and let out a yelp, and Percival sighed, feeling slickness instantly covering his cock, so at least Grindelwald wasn’t going to make him hurt the boy… much.

“That’s where Graves is going to put his lovely cock, inside you, my boy. Have you ever felt anything like this? Explored yourself late at night? Thinking of me? Of him?”

Grindelwald was smirking at Percival, and it was a strange thing, to want to slap the face that was his own, but he did, very much, if it meant wiping off that grin.

“No sir.”

Credence managed to groan, and Grindelwald clucked his tongue,

“Too bad. I bet you were just afraid. No need. We’re all friends here.”

He winked at Percival and then was moving his hands, grasping the back of the boy’s neck and forcing him to look back at him, before he leaned down to kiss him so roughly it made Percival’s gut clench, and his cock twitch.

It was like watching a dream, a horrible dream, where he was ravishing the boy’s mouth, as his other hand slid down the boy’s chest to jerk at his cock, once, twice, and the boy was shuddering, almost on the verge of coming, so he stopped.

“God, you’re frantic for it, aren’t you?”

Credence was nodding, his cheeks are red as his cock, and Grindelwald smirked again,

“Well then, you’re ready. Shift up, and let his cock go where my fingers were.”

Percival blinked, and the boy was moving, preparing to do just that, and he couldn’t help it, he wanted more than that, wanted to know the boy wanted it too, he couldn’t just take…

His mouth opened in a silent scream as the boy sunk down on him.

* * *

 

Credence couldn’t quite find a grasp on when things had gone from hellish to heavenly, but he knew it felt surprisingly good to let Mister Graves, the real Mister Graves, sodomize him.

It was wrong, so wrong, and yet, with Grindelwald behind him and watching, he felt almost good. His cock was hard and he wanted to touch himself as he felt Mister Graves’ cock moving inside of him.

“Can I...?”

Grindelwald cocked a brow when Credence looked over at him, hips shifting carefully as he let Mister Graves ‘fuck’ him.

“What’s that?”

“My… cock hurts sir. So much.”

Pain was all he knew, so describing something that wasn’t actually painful was difficult.

“Oh yes. My boy, that’s your lust, your desire, building up inside you. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself, not with your hands. Try your magic, see if you can use that.”

Credence was confused again, and when he looked down at himself, below his aching cock, he could see where Mister Graves’ cock was sliding inside and out of him.

It hurt too, burned and stretched him, even with the strange cool slickness that was aiding the movement, but it was a good sort of agony.

Leading to something better, he hoped.

Mister Graves wasn’t looking at him, as if he was ashamed of what Credence was doing to his body, and it made his heart hurt, made him wonder if he would ever speak again, if he could.

He did the same, eventually, unable to watch the man in pain for what he was doing, and he tried to draw on his magic, to do as Grindelwald had said, let his power aid him.

His cock was weeping a clear fluid down the length of it, threatening to leak onto the chair he was mounted on Mister Graves atop, and he focused on his magic, trying to will it into the shape of a hand, so he could bring some small amount of relief to the fire licking at his skin.

He gasped aloud as he felt it, a brush of something solid and warm against him, and as he concentrated, the pressure surrounded his cock, squeezing tight and stroking quickly, making him buck against it, chasing the sensation, subsequently pulling up and off of Mister Graves’ cock, so that he could groan and the pain stopped, washed away in several heartbeats, as his eyes opened and he saw his cock twitch, before shooting out ropes of white that painted over the man’s chest beneath him.

It went on for a few more seconds, and his cock finally relaxed a bit, falling down to rest against the man’s now messy skin, and he fell back down, letting the man’s cock impale him again, and he sighed, feeling a bit better already.

“Good boy. You’re very good at this, almost a natural I’d say.”

“Thank you Mister Graves.”

Credence spoke so softly, he hoped that Grindelwald would think he meant him, but the truth was, he meant the man before him, and he leaned forward, kissing him gently, trying to tell him with just a gesture that it was all right, they were okay.

* * *

 

Grindelwald, while insane and a monster, had been correct about Credence.

It was more than incredible watching the boy come, for probably the first time in his life, unaided and untouched but for the magic inside him, and though his cock had throbbed pitifully when Credence had moved off of him to relish and concentrate on his own orgasm, it had been worth it to see the way his jaw went slack and his eyes rolled back as the pleasure washed over him.

The first good feeling he’d ever known, and it hadn’t even been a proper situation.

“Mister Graves, do you need to come?”

He was stunned to hear a voice inside of his head, most definitely Credence’s, and he was suddenly frightened. If Grindelwald knew he was breaking his rules, he’d be most upset.

So angry that he might…

Percival didn’t want to think about it.

He just met the boy’s eyes and nodded.

“Please, let him come.”

Credence was looking over at Grindelwald, at the same time as he gripped Percival’s cock even tighter, and stole a breath from his chest.

“My boy, he’s going to need to wait, he can’t just get his way because you bat your eyes at me. Come on, get up now. You’re done.”

Credence did as he was told, and Percival groaned silently at the loss of contact.

But the boy leaned down to press a kiss to the side of his cheek, and he almost chased after it, desperate for him to stay.

“I’m tired of him. I want you to play with me now. Your pet will be here tomorrow.”

Percival gritted his teeth as he watched the man put his arms around the boy, conjuring back his black silk sleep clothes, and they walked out of the room, leaving him in his perpetually aroused state again, as the chair vanished from beneath him, cold stone rushed back to kiss his skin with a hard bite.

* * *

 

“What should I call you? You know he told me who you really are…”

Credence mumbled, once Grindelwald had walked him back to his room, and dimmed the fire with a flick of his wand.

“Yes, of course he did. He’d love for you to be his salvation, his rescuing angel, the boy whom he wanted to bring into the world of magic, returning the favor. It’s all very sweet and a bit pathetic if you ask me. Call me what I am to you. I own you now. You can call me Sir, or Master, if you’re feeling very kind. How are you feeling Credence?”

Grindelwald stepped closer and brought his hand to Credence’s cheek, before sliding it down to his neck, fingers wrapping around his throat, and he knew if the man wished, he could kill him like that, easily and without much magic or strength.

“I want you, sir.”

Grindelwald licked his lips, and the appearance of Mister Graves, whole and hearty, dressed in his usual splendor of a suit was confusing, and Credence wasn’t sure why, but he was becoming feverish again, the heat centering between his legs, making his cock hard in his pants.

“Good. I’m glad. Help me undress.”

Credence’s eyes widened, and he wondered if the man was planning to stay with him, overnight, sleep at his side.

“Now. Don’t make me punish you for having to tell you twice to do things.”

Credence jumped, and quickly started unbuttoning the man’s vest and shirt, pulling his jacket off of him, and then returning to slide off his tie and Grindelwald smirked, plucking it from his hands and tossing it onto the bed,

“We’ll be needing that.”

Credence resumed his work, carefully taking off the clothing and folding it before setting it aside, until Grindelwald was standing in just his socks, held up just below the knee with garters.

“Kneel boy.”

Credence gulped and did as he was told, staring at the same cock which he’d had inside him moments before, and he looked up at Grindelwald, at the face he wore, and wished it were _him_.

“Go on, open your mouth.”

He complied, obedient as he could, not willing to cause the man to want to hurt him, to punish him for not being good enough, for doing as he wanted.

Grindelwald didn’t hesitate before pushing his cock inside him, moving so fast the head of it bumped the back of Credence’s throat, threatening to cause him to gag, but the hand on the back of his head, gripping his hair wouldn’t allow him to retreat, so he closed his eyes and tried to call on his magic to help, to keep him from being bad.

“That’s it, there you go. You know how to please your master, don’t you?”

Credence couldn’t nod, so he just sucked harder, kept his lips tight over his teeth, and Grindelwald pushed deeper, moved in and out at a brutal pace, until there was only the obscene sounds of his mouth on the man’s cock, and the slight shock every time his cock slid down his throat.

Suddenly the man was moving back, and Credence couldn’t even find his voice to ask what he’d done wrong, before Grindelwald put his other hand on his cock, on _Mister Graves’_ cock, and finished himself off, coming all over his face, barely giving him time to close his eyes and open his mouth again, hoping to tempt him into putting most of it there.

He didn’t.

“You are just beautiful like this. Dripping. Drenched. Oh I’d love for him to see you like this, but I don’t feel like walking down there again. Not tonight. Get on the bed, crawl up to the top.”

Credence was shaking slightly but he did as he was told.

He glanced down and realized Grindelwald had spelled away his pajamas, again, and he was cold from the fire being so low.

He carefully laid down against the headboard, feeling the metal bars biting against his thin skin and muscles of his back.

Grindelwald was fully naked when he approached the bed, and without a word, he climbed onto it, and the curtains closed around them, blocking the fireplace from view, as well as the windows.

Credence tried not to shiver again.

“Good boy.”

Grindelwald was purring, and holding up the tie, _Mister Graves’ tie_ , and lifting Credence’s hand up to the bar, along with the other, restraining him.

Like Mister Graves had said, the man enjoyed controlling people.

Credence would appear to be no different than anyone else, just another pawn.

But to his own surprise and shame, he could feel his own cock growing hard again.

He liked it.

He wanted it.

He preferred the Real Graves though.

He could never admit that, or he knew he’d be whipped, or punished, starved maybe.

“You’re thinking too much my boy, spread those legs for me.”

Credence obeyed, and though it embarrassed him, he opened his thighs, until the cold air seemed to be kissing his still sore hole, and Grindelwald was just staring, smirking.

“He was your first then, how romantic. So I’ll be your second, but still your first, hmm?”

Grindelwald put his hand on him, stroking his cock roughly, but with a sure grip and Credence’s back arched as the pleasure began to build inside him, yet it was slow, slower since he’d already come once, and it still felt good, so good he wanted to beg for more.

So he did.

“Please sir, please.”

“What? What do you need from your master?”

Credence pressed his cheek against his arm, bound above his head, and he could feel tears sting his eyes as Grindelwald’s hand tightened, almost painful,

“I need to come sir.”

Grindelwald chuckled,

“I think I’ll be the judge of that my boy.”

“No, I _do_ sir.”

Grindelwald’s hand stopped, and Credence whimpered at the loss of contact, but gulped when the man leaned over him, lips so close to his own,

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?”

Credence’s voice was a hushed whisper,

“Nothing, sir.”

Grindelwald looked positively dangerous now, and Credence had never seen Mister Graves wearing such an expression, unless talking about his former family.

“Oh, I think you need to apologize to me for that. Turn around.”

It was difficult, but not impossible for Credence do so, but it hurt his wrists slightly, making the heartbeat in his wrists more prominent as the skin was squeezed.

Grindelwald was now behind him, and he swore he could feel the man’s eyes burning into his skin.

“Tell me, who do you belong to?”

Credence licked his lips, his throat dry,

“You, sir.”

“That’s right. You come when I say. Got that?”

Credence nodded,

“Yes, sir.”

Grindelwald didn’t move him, didn’t touch him, until a hand came down on his ass, making him jump, and the pain smarted, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as getting the belt over his back.

“You’re mine. Not his. He’s your pet, your gift from me. Don’t I deserve a thank you?”

Credence was nodding again,

“Yes sir. You do.”

“I know.”

Grindelwald hit him again, harder that time, making his eyes sting from the pain, and then the man was dragging his hand down his spine, stopping at his puckered hole, before pressing a finger inside, and then another.

It was agony without any sort of warning or slickness like Mister Graves had had on his cock.

The two fingers scissored inside of him, and he yanked against his restraints, trying to use that pain to distract from the other pain, but it didn’t quite work.

“I’m going to fuck you now, and you will not come until I have, seven times. Got that?”

Credence wasn’t sure how such a thing was possible, or how long it would take, but he nodded. The man was his master, although he owned him, Credence was sure he could not face any more punishment, and he didn’t know what the man would do to him for such a thing.

“Good boy.”

Grindelwald didn’t give him a word of warning before removing his fingers, and Credence couldn’t help the whine that escaped his throat.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to fit without some help, don’t you worry.”

Cool and slippery, Grindelwald’s cock, _Mister Graves’_ , Credence mind reminded him, pressed inside him rather slow, but then all the way, and the man groaned, hands on Credence hips, keeping him close, and fully burying his cock inside Credence’s ass.

He fucked Credence without hesitation, without the labored breathing or possible guilt that Mister Graves had seemed to have, and even so, within a few moments, Credence’s cock was returning to full hardness, and weeping on the sheets below him, desperate for a touch, for release.

“Please, sir.”

Grindelwald slapped him again, still moving in and out at a pace that had Credence gripped the bars his wrists were tied to, just to keep himself from hitting his head instead.

“Silence boy, I don’t think I asked you anything.”

He could feel his throat close again, and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t even make a sound of pleasure or pain, and tears began to fall down his cheeks.

Grindelwald hit him again, and then was pulling out of him, as a warmth splattered on his back, he let his head drop, and he looked down to see his own cock curving against his stomach, twitching like it wanted to disobey, to come anyway, from the way the man had fucked him, he’d felt a wave of pleasure every time the man’s cock had hit deep inside him.

“That’s one. In case you forgot to count. Although, you did get me off so nicely with your mouth earlier, perhaps we’ll call this two.”

Credence nodded, and Grindelwald moved closer, putting a hand on his back and dragging his fingers through the mess he’d made, rubbing the wetness against Credence’s hole, feeling utterly used.

“You know this will be a long night, unless I decide to help you, don’t you?”

Credence looked over at him, and Grindelwald smirked,

“Yes, there are spells for that sort of thing. Just like for the opposite. I can make you soft again, but you’ll still want to come. Would you like that?”

Credence was uncertain.

What would be the use?

“Come on, don’t look so sad. I hate it when my boys cry. It’s unattractive.”

Grindelwald flicked his wrist and Credence’s face was dry again, and his back felt clean as well.

“Much better. All clean and ready to be fucked again. But this, look at this. Your back is still hideous. Shall I get rid of these for you?”

Credence flushed, knowing the man was talking about his scars, the ones from the belt littering his upper back and shoulders.

He shrugged, and Grindelwald clucked his tongue softly,

“I think so, yes. I want you to be perfect. Pretty as can me. The only marks you’ll wear are ones I give you.”

Magic was almost sparking at his fingers, and the man reached out to touch Credence’s skin, fingers gliding over his back, and Credence squeezed his eyes shut, willing his body to be calm, to not react, but it was too late.

His cock gave a feeble twitch and he was coming in white spurts onto the bed, shaking and shivering as his orgasm took him by surprise, merely the comfort of the healing spell enough to bring him off without a hand anywhere he needed one.

“Oh Credence… you disobeyed me, again.”

He was crying now, he knew it.

But he couldn’t have helped himself, he was sure.

Grindelwald slapped him across his ass and Credence whimpered, silenced still, begging the man with his eyes not to hurt him, not to punish him too badly.

“You insist on behaving like an animal, I swear. I take you in, and this is how you thank me?”

Credence tried to breathe normally, tried to be still, accept his fate as best he could, but Grindelwald put a hand on his throat and yanked him so that he was lying on his back again, the cooling wetness of his spend rubbing against his skin, making him feel unclean, dirty, covered in sin as he was.

“You’re going to take me now, without any preparation, nothing to aid my fucking you, _splitting_ you in half… well, maybe a little.”

Pretending he was kind to reconsider, Grindelwald reached up from where he’d been gripping his neck, and put two fingers on his lips, ordering him to part them, and Credence did, eyes rather wide, scared of what the man might do.

“Good, lick my fingers, like a good pet.”

He did, until the man’s hand was almost dripping with saliva, and he pulled it back, stroking his cock, until it was slick enough, but when the man pushed his cock inside his hole, almost burning from how much it hurt, it might as well have been dry.

He squirmed on the sheets from the pain, trying to shrink away without actually moving enough to anger the man, who merely sighed.

“You need to learn to obey me, in all things. Hold still, or I will _make_ you.”

Credence nodded, and then gripped the metal bars and bit his tongue so hard he could swear he tasted blood in his mouth.

Grindelwald was breathing hard, clearly enjoying himself more than Credence could ever from such a feeling, and when he still, he felt the man’s cock pulsing inside him, a warmth spreading from where he was buried deep.

“Oh yes, I think that’s three. But since you disobeyed me, perhaps I won’t let you come at all, not tonight. Maybe I’ll spell you like Graves. Keep you hard and wanting. Put a collar on you, make you crawl around and kiss my feet. How would you like that?”

Credence didn’t know how to say no with his eyes, and he didn’t want to shake his head, didn’t want to defy the man, but he also couldn’t live like that.

Pain was already blurring on the line of pleasure, sweet agony versus the bitterness of split skin from a whip on his shoulders.

“Sir, I want to make you happy.”

His voice returned, and Grindelwald started, unaware that Credence had been fighting the spell, trying to speak the entire time.

“Oh you have. I’m tired of you though, I need something more, self indulgent. You can rest now. I’ll fetch you in the morning.”

Grindelwald was climbing out of Credence’s bed, moving away to dress himself with a snap of his fingers, and the curtains parted, revealing the still glowing fireplace, and the window, showing only the faint silver orb of the moon, high in the sky.

“But my hands sir…”

Grindelwald glanced back at him,

“I think if you really want to free yourself, you will.”

Credence could feel wetness seeping out of his sore backside, and he yanked his hands, testing the strength of the tie. Nothing happened.

“Please, untie me sir.”

Grindelwald was already at the door, and still smirking.

“No.”

 The door closed, and Credence was left alone, body aching and skin sticky and itchy.

* * *

 

Percival was stunned when he heard the door opening again, and Grindelwald walked in, alone.

“What have you done with him?”

Grindelwald was laughing,

“Nothing you didn’t want to do yourself. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine in the morning. I didn’t even leave any permanent marks on him.”

Percival sighed,

“You can torture me all you want, but if you dare put a hand on him and it leaves any kind of scar, I will-”

Grindelwald was already walking over to him, hands undoing his button and zipper, and Percival flinched back,

“You’ll what? Shut your mouth and watch like a good pet? Yes. That’s what I thought.”

Percival tried to ignore the ever present erection of his own, even as Grindelwald was close enough to grab his face, shoving his cheek against the man’s cock, which was also his own, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to look at what he was forced to touch in such a manner.

He couldn’t help thinking that certainly Credence had been in this position, and instead of making him angry, it made him wistful.

He wanted to have the boy kneeling before him, wanted to put his hands in that dark hair and stare into his dark eyes as he came down the boy’s throat.

“Daydreaming again? Wake up, get to work.”

Grindelwald was saying, shoving the cock that they shared into Percival’s mouth, forcing him to gag slightly, and jerk away.

“Stop fighting me, and I’ll let you come. Twice in one day, aren’t I nice?”

Percival did his best, focused on dragging his tongue over the underside and laving at the head with the tip, tasting the bitter and salty remnants of his last climax, no doubt when he’d taken advantage of poor Credence.

“You know, the boy cries if you push too hard. Isn’t that terrible? I need to focus on breaking him in properly, so the next time I take him dry, he won’t make a sound, without any magic needed.”

Percival felt his blood turn cold, and he could only imagine how horrible it had been for the boy, to be fucked in such a heartless manner.

If only it wasn’t so arousing as well as disgusting.

“Come on my handsome twin, finish me.”

Percival thought about biting down, thought about throwing caution to the winds, but Grindelwald would surely break another bone for that, and let him heal without magic.

He felt the hot jets of the man’s come against his tongue, and Grindelwald pulled back, still coming and letting himself make a mess of Percival’s face and chest.

“Look at you.”

Percival swallowed, and wished his hands were free so he could wipe his face off, but instead felt his own orgasm washing over him, and his cock jerked, before drooling out a few white ropes on Grindelwalds shoes and pant legs.

“Clean that up.”

Percival sighed. He should have known his pleasure would not have lasted long.

He ducked his head down, awkwardly exposing his bare back as he moved to kiss the man’s shoes, carefully licking up his own spend, and leaving the black leather merely shiny with spit.

“God, I wish we could all do something like this, but frankly, I don’t trust you with him, without restraints.”

Percival looked back up to glare at Grindelwald, uncaring and angry, more than he’d ever been. The man should be worried about the boy, but not for that reason. Percival was in no position to help him escape, but Credence, oh dear, that boy had so much power, why, he could level the house if he felt threatened.

Clearly, he was being blinded by the fact that his captor looked just like his hero, and therefore, Grindelwald was safe.

For now.

* * *

 

Credence woke from a fitful sleep to find himself still tied to the bed, and with a strong need to relieve himself, but there was no way he was going to stay there, and let Grindelwald find him squirming and with a new means to be tortured.

He closed his eyes and pictured fire, gentle, but hot and concentrated on the ties, willing them to burst into flames, to disintegrate.

It hurt him, scorched his flesh before he could yank them away, but the pain was worth it, and was nothing in the scheme of things he’d experienced, and he nearly jumped off the bed, running to the bathroom.

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror, not for more than a handful of seconds before he saw purplish bruises on his hips and at his throat.

The angry welts on his wrists were not from the ties, but the burns he’d just given himself, and they smarted slightly as he reached down to take himself in hand, his own fingers scraping at almost raw skin. It wasn’t sexual, but the second Credence relaxed enough to begin to use the toilet, he felt his throat close up, and he glanced at the closest mirror to find Grindelwald standing at the door, watching him.

He didn’t stop, but he felt a tendril of fear crawling up his spine.

“You’re not touching yourself without my permission are you?”

Credence shook his head, and let go of his cock at once, still aimed carefully into the porcelain bowl.

“I see you managed to get out of your binding. Good job. What happened?”

Grindelwald was walking towards him, and Credence tried to finish faster, tried to maintain calm, even as exposed as he was.

“Give me your hand.”

Grindelwald didn’t even glance at his cock, and when Credence held up his left hand, the man clucked his tongue, rubbing a thumb over the burn on his wrist.

“Why did you hurt yourself to get away?”

Credence didn’t want to be impertinent but he thought it was rather obvious.

“Hmm?”

Grindelwald dropped that hand and reached over to take the other one, healing it as well, before putting his own hand at Credence’s throat, distracting him.

“I had to…”

Grindelwald rolled his eyes,

“You didn’t have to get up for that. Clearly you make messes. You slept with my come inside you last night, I think this is trivial. I’ll clean you when you need me to. Your lovely Mister Graves will give you a bath, if you like.”

Grindelwald grasped him by a newly healed wrist and yanked him out of the bathroom, back towards the bed,

“I have something for you, a pre breakfast snack. Get on the bed, lay down with your head hanging off the edge, good, just like that.”

Credence could still feel a dampness beneath him on the sheets, until Grindelwald wrinkled his nose, and flicked his hand, and then his entire body seemed to breathe easier.

He’d been cleaned indeed.

But he still felt dirty on the inside.

“Open wide.”

Grindelwald was standing over him, pulling his hardened cock out of his pants, and Credence could already see why he’d put him like he was. It meant the man could easily push deeper, and thrust inside of him easier, without having to fight gravity, or worry about him gagging.

Grindelwald still moved too fast for his liking, and he did feel more in danger of choking on his own spit than the man’s cock, but he was happy, and Credence was doing well for a new start, a new day.

“Very good.”

The man put a hand to his head, stroking his hair but not gripping it tightly, so Credence could relax slightly, almost enjoying it. It began slowly enough, but the faster the man moved, the harder Credence got.

He liked it.

He liked it?

Liked being used?

Maybe it was because all he could see was Mister Graves standing over him, using him, and murmuring encouragement.

But it _wasn’t_ him.

It wasn’t the man who’d tried to save him, who’d promised he’d be honored in the wizarding world. Now he was living in the shadows again, as he always had, but instead of God, or his not mother, his new master was darkness and sin and the devil himself.

When Grindelwald came down his throat, he closed his eyes, pretending it was just another day, and he was pleasing the man he wanted to.

“You know, you have a perfect mouth for this. It’s like you were made to be fucked, made to take my cock inside either of your two holes.”

Credence didn’t know why that made him feel hot, but it did, and soon his cock was fully hard, and weeping against his stomach.

“Do you enjoy this?”

Credence nodded before he could stop himself, and Grindelwald stroked his cheek again, and smirked down at him.

“Of course you do. You want me to let you come? Before you’ve had a substantial breakfast?”

Grindelwald reached down to touch him, just a pitiful brush of his fingers over just the head of Credence’s cock, but anything was enough, as hypersensitive he was, from being denied last night, he came at once, almost sobbing as he thrust his hips into the air, and his cock twitched against the man’s hand, just before he pulled it away.

“Of course, you were starving for it. I would apologize, but I think you know I’m not him. I don’t care. Get dressed and come meet me in the dining room for breakfast, there’s a good boy.”

Grindelwald didn’t touch him, but Credence felt his chest dry, and when he finally sat up and looked around, he saw his pajamas from the night before folded on the chair next to the fireplace, and he fought to breathe properly.

_He didn’t care?_

Not even a little?

Walking down to the first set of stairs to the entry hall again, Credence was thinking hard, lost in the realization that this, the way things were, could not be maintained.

He did not want the real Mister Graves to be harmed on his account, and he did not know how much longer he could let the man wearing Mister Graves’ face continue to… bully him.

He may not have understood exactly what he’d been missing, but the wrong sort of touching, the possessiveness of Mister Graves had changed. He didn’t remember when, but it had become different, more ferocious and the final visit to the church, when Credence had asked him to take him away, to please not make him return.

If only he’d known then, something was wrong, and he had the power to stop it.

Now it felt like it was too late.

“Credence. I know you’re out there. Come in and sit down, like a good pet.”

* * *

 

Percival tried to lift his head up to look, but he barely could. He’d been without water for almost three days, and without food for nearly three times that.

Originally he thought with Grindelwald having obtained the Obscurus that maybe he’d get a break, or at least be amused and distracted enough to thank him, in a way, for leading him to the boy.

Not that the idea of Credence being the reason for Percival’s comfort made him feel any better. The boy had been through enough without being used as a playing piece on Grindelwald’s world chess board.

The door was opening, and he fought the urge to shrink back. He was tired of playing, tired of being played with. He thought about begging the man to kill him, but he suspected it would just amuse him.

“Mister Graves?”

It was Credence.

“Credence, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming to get you.”

It was a trick.

A test.

Percival stayed where he was, even as he felt warmth sliding over his skin, and the chains slipped off his wrists, revealing bloody and painful marks from the metal.

“Mister Graves… I’m sorry I didn’t do anything sooner. I didn’t mean to go along with him, I didn’t mean to let him injure you any longer.”

Percival shook his head, even as Credence knelt beside him, hands gentle and voice soothing.

“When he told me he didn’t care, after he’d just used me… again, I saw the truth of it in his eyes… in your eyes. But you, you _do_ care.”

Wisps of black tinged with red were curling around Credence’s fingers, and Percival watched as a glass of water appeared, and a plate with a piece of bread formed beside it.

Credence set them down and then backed away just enough to close his eyes and seemed to summon more power, and sunlight filled the room, drawn from where, Percival didn’t know.

He drank the water and ate the bread as quickly as he dared, and then got to his feet, still feeling fatigued and unsure of it all, before he reached out, and grabbed Credence’s arm closest to him, gripping tight as he dared,

“Tell me something only you would know.”

“I can’t. He could have read my mind. You need to trust me. Follow me.”

Being led naked out of his own cellar of his country home was not how Percival had seen the day going, and though he’d been exposed to some light, the full force of the mid morning through the windows was blinding.

“Here, put this on.”

Credence was handing him something, a green and silver robe, and Percival took it without thinking. It had been weeks, months since he’d felt clothing against his body, and it hurt to pull it on, rubbing the raw skin and his normally perpetually hard cock was finally softening, once again hanging between his legs where it belonged.

That alone made him dare to hope that maybe, maybe it was Credence before him, trying to set them both free.

“Look.”

Percival trailed behind him slowly, feeling his magic beginning to trickle back through his veins, having long been restrained and buried deep, and he wondered if he could summon his wand.

“I didn’t mean to make a mess, but I think he was going to poison me. He wanted to separate me from my power. He said it would make him more powerful to absorb me, and that… fucking me wasn’t enough.”

Percival winced at the boy’s use of the vulgar language, and glanced to the head of the dining table, before looking away as fast as he could.

Grindelwald still looked like him, even in death, and it was incredibly disconcerting to see himself leaning on the table, blood covering every inch of skin not covered by his suit, a pool forming over the white tablecloth.

“Are you sure he’s… really dead?”

Credence blinked, before walking past Percival to go over to the still body, and he picked up a gleaming silver fork, before stabbing it into Grindelwald’s upper back.

Percival winced, even as the body did nothing.

There was no way the man would take that lying down.

“Credence… you did this… without a wand or any sort of training?”

The boy nodded slowly, and Percival, instead of feeling horrified or afraid, merely felt pride and fondness wash over him, along with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Come here, please.”

Credence walked towards him, and he opened his arms, so that the boy could fall into them, and he did, his own slimmer arms wrapping around Percival’s waist.

“You brave, beautiful creature. I owe you my life.”

Credence was shaking against him, and Percival pressed a frantic kiss to his cheek.

“We need to get help, to get the proper authorities notified…”

Credence was shaking his head,

“Wait, can’t we just stay here a minute… please?”

Percival stroked a hand through the boy’s hair, and his body melted against his own,

“All right. Yes. Of course.”

Against his better judgment, Credence managed to convince him to do more than that, nudging his cheek against Percival’s chest, guiding him back out to the staircase, to sit down on a cushioned surface so that the boy could properly fit in his arms, and kiss him, like he was the only water in a vast desert.

Percival decided maybe, just maybe, they could delay calling MACUSA in favor of indulging in some spontaneous affection.

It had been so long since he’d been able to act of his own free will, even Percival was amazed that he wanted that, was dying for the way Credence responded vocally to every kiss and touch when there was no menace or ill intent behind it.

Short of letting Credence actively ravish him on the stairs, Percival did bring the boy off with a whispered prayer of gratitude, and when the boy started shifting down to kneel before him, he thought he had certainly died, and gone to heaven, or a sweet version of hell.

Credence touched him like he was a fragile and precious thing, and Percival knew there was nothing more that he wanted than the chance to make up for every wrong thing Grindelwald did, to worship and adore the boy as he deserved, as he needed.

He came with the boy’s name on his lips, and he swore he could see adoration in Credence’s eyes as he swallowed him down.

“You’re truly an angel, my guardian angel.”

He caressed the boy’s cheek, and as he had that first time, and the second, he nuzzled against Percival’s palm, and smiled dreamily.

“I’m yours Mister Graves. Forever.”

* * *

 

**_END_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> you didn't think i'd forget the happy -ish ending did you? psh nah.
> 
>  
> 
> even fiery garbage cans have hearts.


End file.
